Hermione's Guilt
by fizzy-fics239
Summary: It's very sad in places and there's a bit of a hot kiss but thats the worst of it! I hope you like it! PS THIS IS NOT FINISHED! There's a lot more to come :) ! R
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Hermione Weasley walked through her front door. The silence was eerie. She tiptoed past her own bedroom and straight on towards the girl's. She had always promised them that she would kiss them goodnight if she were late home. She looked at Catherine's little face, her daughter looked so much like Ron, it was quite uncanny. She kissed Cathy's forehead and crossed the room to Rachel's cot. Rachel bore very little resemblance to Ron except her flaming red had. She only had a small tuft, but it was a bright as all of the Wealey clan's.  
  
She loved her girls so much, they made her laugh, they gave her those small breaths of happiness and contentedness that she was always craving for. She closed the door and walked quietly to the kitchen. The wedding and baby photos were stood up all over the fireplace and windowsills of the adjoining lounge. She remembered when they had first moved to this beautiful bungalow together. She had hoped it would make things better, it did for a while, but the uncomfortable feelings kept returning to her heart.  
  
Hermione sat staring at her happy face, those times were only a few years ago yet she strained to remember them. She looked at one of the biggest pictures. Her and Ron were waving and laughing, while Harry and Ginny stood shyly in the background holding hands.  
  
"Oh!" Exclaimed Hermione, she just remembered that their wedding was soon. They wanted Cathy to be a bride's maid. She quickly wrote a note to them asking them what she needed to sort out for Catherine and tied it quickly to a grumpy Edith. Edith flew off, leaving Hermione feeling guilty; she had been so busy at the Ministry that she had plain forgotten. No, that wasn't true. She hadn't been busy, she had been burying herself in her work. She used the 'He-who-must-not-be-named' crisis as an excuse to be away from home, away from Ron. To stay at the office where she was around him, the one she loved. She still loved Ron, she knew she did. There was just something about her lover, something that drew her to him.  
  
She opened the bedroom door; Ron's motionless figure lay on one side of the bed as she slipped noiseless into the other side of the bed.  
  
"Hard day?" Hermione jumped.  
  
"I didn't realise you were awake Ron," she said.  
  
"I heard you come in," he replied. "What's going on at the office? There are rumours going around that there have been more sightings."  
  
"Yes, there have been, off the south coast of France."  
  
"That close!" "Yes, I'm afraid so," Hermione smiled at the back of Ron's head. She was sure things could be the way they used to be. There was silence in the room. She waited for Ron to say something....  
  
"I love you Hermione." Tears leaked from Hermione's eyes.  
  
"I love you too Ron." 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
The next morning Hermione woke up feeling Ron's arms tightly around her waist. She gently dislodged them and dressed herself. She strode quickly into the kitchen and carelessly flicked her wand at the cereal packets and milk bottles. She gathered her briefcase and jacket and left the cereal bowls neatly at the table for when the rest of her family woke up. She turned and looked once again at her photos and then as quick as a flash disapparated.  
  
Ron woke ten minutes later; he missed the days he found Hermione still laying next to him. He knew she wasn't that busy at work, he knew she was unhappy. He got up to find that Catherine was already up dressed and eating her cornflakes. Ron laughed to himself; she was just like her mother, efficient and sensible.  
  
"Mummy's forgotten the juice Daddy," she said in a whisper.  
  
Ron flicked his wand at the fridge and then again at the beakers lined up in the overhead cabinet.  
  
"Is Rach still sleeping?" He asked his daughter while placing a glass in front of her.  
  
"I think so, I didn't look," she answered quietly; she was distracted by the radio she had just taken off the shelf and switched on.  
  
"Quidditch?" Ron enquired.  
  
"Yep," said Cathy. "It's 110 – 10 to the Scots."  
  
"Who are they playing?" Ron hadn't really been following since England were knocked out by the Indians.  
  
"Belgium."  
  
"Ok. When you've finished your breakfast pick up anything you want to take to Auntie Ginny's."  
  
"Ok Daddy," she answered and returned to the game just as McKee caught the snitch. "Yes!"  
  
Ron lifted his youngest daughter from her bed and dressed her. He fed her her cornflakes and collected her teddy, blanket and a few toys to keep her entertained for the rest of the day. He loaded his children into the car and drove to his sister's house. When he got there, to the small, rural cottage, he unloaded his children, walked down the stony path and knocked on the large wooden door.  
  
"Hi Ron," Harry stood by the door; he immediately took Rachel off Ron and beckoned Ron and Cathy into the lounge.  
  
"Ginny and Neville are outside in one of the greenhouses," said Harry as he put Rachel into the armchair. Just as he said this, a dirt-smeared Neville Longbottom appeared at the door.  
  
"Hi Ron," Neville said cheerily.  
  
"Hello Neville, how are things? I haven't spoken to you for a long."  
  
"I've been on a business trip," replied Neville proudly. Harry snorted into his coffee.  
  
"What?" Said Ron.  
  
"Neville went to Cornwall to test Dragon dung fertiliser samples," answered Harry desperately trying to hold back the laughter.  
  
"It's...It's very important work you know, fertiliser has to be just right for certain plants otherwise all sorts could go wrong," Neville stammered and with that he went back outside and down the garden to the greenhouses.  
  
"So the business is doing ok then," Ron enquired.  
  
"Yep it seems so. Neville has helped Gin a great deal however much we tease him. He's helped her with some difficult plants, things that she really needed to get the business going, they raking in tonnes now!"  
  
"Good," said Ron, he was pleased for his sister if a little jealous.  
  
"But how are things with you and Mione?" Ron felt his heart sink.  
  
"Better," he said. Harry looked at him, he knew that this wasn't entirely true he could tell by Ron's face."  
  
"Ok, and now the truth," said Harry sternly.  
  
"I think....I think she might be seeing someone else," Ron said quietly.  
  
"What? Hermione? No, Ron she wouldn't do that to you." Ron felt his eyes burning.  
  
"She's been so unhappy, but I just thought, the long nights, disappearances, it's the only explanation," Ron didn't know what to say. He knew, but he couldn't explain how he knew.  
  
"Give her sometime, it's hectic down at the ministry, this is the first day I've had off in ages, all departments have been pulled off normal duties to investigate the Voldemort sightings." Ron flinched. "Sorry, but well anyway Mione is probably so busy Ron, its probably just all getting to her ok?"  
  
"Ok," said Ron weakly. "Anyway, I had better get off to work don't want to be late."  
  
There was a giggle from the far side of the room, Ginny walked in looking even muddier than Neville.  
  
"What so funny?" Snapped Ron.  
  
"I don't think Fred and George really care if your late Ron, they don't take it seriously so why do you?"  
  
Ron's ears reddened. "Because I am the manager of the largest branch of the best joke shop in Britain," said Ron huffily. Ginny giggled again.  
  
"Oh shut up," Ron kissed his daughters and disapparated.  
  
"You should be nicer to him you know." 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Hermione walked out of her office cubicle and into the corridor, she pointed her wand at the coffee mug but before she could do anything a hand took her elbow.  
  
"When can I see you again? Please Hermione, when?" Hermione turned and looked into his eyes.  
  
"No, no I'm sorry, I can't, I'm married."  
  
"Don't be a fool Mione, this is more important than marriage, don't tell me you don't feel it, please don't say that. You know what I mean! You know."  
  
Hermione felt the urgency in his hand and saw it in his eyes.  
  
"I can't," she moaned.  
  
"Please, just a drink at the Leaky Cauldron, anywhere!"  
  
"NO," Hermione escaped from his grip. "I can't." He put his hands on her waist and roughly pulled her towards him, then placed his lips on her's. At first she struggled but not for long, her arms wrapped around his body and she kissed him back, passionately, desperately.  
  
"A drink, tonight?" Hermione nodded her head before she had even registered the question the kiss had won her over, she felt weakened but love struck.  
  
"Not for too long, Ron!" Hermione had a rush of reality.  
  
"Don't tell me about him, forget about him, this is about you and me Mione, you and me."  
  
"I have to be home by twelve ok? Please."  
  
"Ok Hermione, see you after work," he gave her a quick kiss, put his hand on her face and looked into her eyes. He had such penetrating, blue eyes. "I love you."  
  
"See you after work Draco." 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
Ron was tired, he took of his "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" name badge, which flashed different colours, and picked up his stuff.  
  
"Wait!" George shouted after his brother.  
  
"Thought you were in Canada?" Said Ron wearily, his brother was nicely tanned and the number of freckles on his face had doubled. He had a smile on his face. "What are you so happy about?"  
  
"20th Weasley's Wizard Wheezes store is open and running with a dazzling success rate of 2 million witches and wizards clambering into the shop within 2 hours." George sounded as though he were reading from the Daily Prophet.  
  
"I see..... shouldn't you be there then?"  
  
"Fred's keeping an eye on things, I'm making sure all the other stores are ok."  
  
"I have everything under control here thanks very much," said Ron his ears turning pink for the second time that day.  
  
"How's me business been then me old son," said George in a slightly odd accent.  
  
"Fine," Ron said shortly.  
  
"Just fine? Not spectacular or splendid, just fine?" Ron really wasn't in the mood he glared at his brother.  
  
"Ok, ok, it's fine, it's fine, you ok?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Just fine? Not spectac-"  
  
"GEORGE!"  
  
"Sorry! Ok going then I can see you desperate to leave."  
  
Ron disapparated and found himself outside of his sister's house next to his small Ford car: Gloom, it lurks in the darkest corners of the world, in anything from caves to cupboards, but where gloom really hangs, where it can really penetrate a human all the way to his soul is where an unspeakable tragedy has occurred. Ron shuddered, he felt that gloom, he felt sadness pouring from the window of the house as though to scare him from it. He slowly walked to the front of the house and found that it stood an inch or two ajar. He pushed the door open: Grief, grief does not lurks as gloom does it slips into one's body as quick as lightening and stings one's heart, grief is felt before shock, only in a small dose which mingles with shock to produce denial. Ron looked at the white body of his daughter, he saw her closed eyes and red hair, he saw his sister sobbing next to her, he saw Neville Longbottom crying quietly on the staircase.  
  
"Ron-" Harry stood up, "Ron we couldn't find you, there were no owls, there was no time."  
  
Ron didn't hear him; he heard echoes as though they were bouncing off an invisible wall around him. He bent close to his daughter and felt her face; the coldness of her skin sent a sickening wave of realisation down his spine.  
  
"How," Ron choked the word out desperately in fear of the sound of his voice, the sound was deafening to him.  
  
"There was an acci-" Harry started.  
  
"It was me," sobbed Neville from the shadowy staircase. "It was me, the plants, I thought she'd like them, she touched the...the-"  
  
"Cerebriks" Ginny took over as Neville broke down into fresh tears. "It was quick Ron, she didn't feel anyth-"  
  
"Does Hermione know? Cathy! Where's Cathy?" Ron started charging through the house. "Catherine? Cathy?"  
  
"She's sleeping Ron!" Harry grabbed Ron's arm to stop him from breaking the door to the living room down. "Let her sleep, she's cried enough"  
  
"No, no," Ron broke down and kneeled next to his dead baby. "No." And he cried, he cried forever, or maybe just a minute, no one could ever know, especially not him. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
Eleven people stood around Rachel Weasley's grave. It stood next in a spot chosen by her parents, next to a grave occupied by the uncle she never knew Percy Weasley. The service had been short but to the point, none of her family had spoken, just listened to the stranger as he blessed her soul. Now they stood, complete silence except for the occasion sniff from Fred as he quietly mourned for his niece. Hermione moved forward and placed a small toy wand on the grave painfully remembering the havoc she had caused with it, Ron moved forward a put his arm around his wife. The rest of the family took this as a hint and slowly departed, Catherine was pulled away by her Godfather and Aunt. Molly Weasley put some flowers down at Percy's grave as she passed and gave the black marble headstone a quick brush instinctively knowing Percy wouldn't have been happy with anything less. She looked back at her son and his wife, then with a nod to her husband disapparated home.  
  
A black cloud formed over the graveyard, Ron and Hermione sat there for hours. Rain started to pour down onto them and their daughter. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
It was three years since Voldemort had returned by the graveyard of his father, killing Cedric Diggory and recalling his Death Eaters. It was the summer of the Quidditch World Cup.  
  
Still, three years on, Voldemort was yet to make his move, yet to openly attack, spread his terror. When Cornelius Fudge gave that statement, the confirmation of His return, the country's wizards had been terrified, but two years had passed and nothing had happened and a sense of security had started to return to the lives of most, they had stopped being prepared. Maybe Voldemort still wasn't strong enough? Maybe not many had joined him this time? The rumours and assurances passed around allowing things to go back to normal...  
  
But for one group things had not changed, vigilance had not dropped and preparation had not waned. The Order of the Phoenix had grown in number, being six times that of what it was when Voldemort last struck. Taking on not only the ever-increasing Aurors from England but also those from France, Spain and America, these countries were keeping the old alliances and helping Britain when they knew they were going to need it. No.12 Grimmauld Place had been outgrown; a number of knew quarters were appointed. They knew that Voldemort was just as strong and the Death Eaters was just as plentiful, all that had changed was his care, Voldemort knew things were different this time, and the Order knew he was just biding his time. All major events were guarded heavily, events like the Quidditch World Cup.  
  
A wave of young, enthusiastic wizards and witches had started training as Aurors and working closely with the Order. Harry Potter was one of these wizards, getting O's and E's in his NEWTs he had joined up straight away. Harry decided to celebrate his success and the success of his friends by joining them at the World Cup, he had missed out on many events like this but he WAS NOT going to miss out on this one, especially as England were playing.  
  
But the game was never played; Voldemort made his move, openly attacked and spread his terror. A group of three thousand Death Eaters swept down on the campsites, hundreds of muggle-borns and indeed pure-bloods were killed that night but the Order of the Phoenix were vigilant, they were there with a mass Voldemort had not anticipated, the Death Eaters were outnumbered 3 to 1. The battle lasted only an hour, lighting the sky with coloured spells, mostly green light was seen. But the outcome was a forgone conclusion, some Death Eaters were rounded up, secured and taken to London, though most were killed and many fled.  
  
Draco Malfoy was excited; this was what he had been waiting for, as had his father. Both father and son gathered with the others.  
  
"The boy is inexperienced, yes?" Draco was not going to miss this one.  
  
"Sir - I'm of age, and...and I've practised." The Death Eaters laughed.  
  
"He will be fine Jenson," drawled Lucius Malfoy, glaring at his son.  
  
"If you are positive," Jenson answered, though in his voice was no hint of concern. "We wait for the Mark to appear above the site and then we leave, our men have marked some of the Mudblood's tents with crosses on the ground after they went to sleep, so any you come across on the way in...well you know what to do." A nasty grin took Jenson's face and some of the Death Eaters laughed. Something jumped in Draco's stomach as he realised he had never killed another human being, he had imagined and fantasised about it, but he had always been duelling with a member of the Order as others did the same around him, not murdering families while they slept. He swallowed this feeling.  
  
They waited in silence, only the distant sound of rustling trees and low breathes of their companions could be heard, it was far past midnight. Draco could feel his heart pumping, the edge had been taken off his excitement but a determined adrenaline pulsed through his veins. There was a weakness in him that he knew and hated, he looked at his father, he so wanted his approval, his pride.  
  
"There it is," said a gruff voice behind him. Draco looked up and saw a glimmering skull far off in the sky. His legs marched on with the others despite his heart banging in his throat. Too soon, Draco realised the forest was thinning and saw a few of the outer tents.  
  
"None of these," whispered Jenson. The silence scared Draco, were they the only ones here? There were only 30 men in the group, not enough to take on the Order if the alarm were raised. A scream, Draco let his breath go and felt a odd sense of relief, at least this meant there were others.  
  
"Damn Rainier, we needed longer..." Jenson led the group towards the sound, running this time. People were leaving their tents, trying to find out what the commotion was. Draco wanted them to at least fight but they had no chance, a green light flew their way and life was taken from them in a mere second. Again he swallowed his feelings and took a tighter grip of his wand. Face set and muscles clenched, the next mudblood that got in his way would get what was coming to them. An almighty sound of popping rang in Draco's ear –  
  
"What was that?" He inquired blindly.  
  
"The Order," answered his father. Not understanding this reply, Draco sped up to join the front of the formation. They were fast approaching the main field, the source of the scream, and Draco then understood. Hundreds upon hundreds of Wizards stood facing some of the largest groups of Death Eaters, no one was moving but all had their wands poised. 'The popping was them apparating' he though to himself, but his mind was far behind those of his companions they had sped up and he found himself at the back of the group again. Another deafening noise came but this time it was from an explosion of spells leaving the various wands one the field, and the shouts that went with them. Red, green and blue lit up the sky, shouts, screams and the thumps of bodies echoed all around. This is what he had imagines, he felt excited again as he looked down on the battling wizards.  
  
"No time like the present," said a voice somewhere to his right, and with no signal the group descended on the chaos running and ready. The men scattered searching hungrily for an opponent, Draco darted forward between two duelling pairs, ducking and diving, hoping to soon find a mudblood.  
  
He stopped dead at a sight that took the breath from his lungs. Children, laying frozen, eyes open, the boy had snitches zooming across his pyjamas, the girl a teddy bear still clutched tightly in her arms, innocent, no more than six years old. But no there it was! There in the form of a cross on the ground was the mark of their guilt. Tears leaked from Draco's eyes.  
  
"Come on, quickly now," Draco looked up as he heard the voice, he saw Percy Weasley helping three young girls out of their tent, saving them from the same fate as those at his feet. A numb sense of hatred scored his soul, not at Weasley, whom he had always held a great contempt for, but at himself. The youngest child clung to Percy's torso as he carried her and her sisters out of the way a little. Draco watched, he knew he had to do something, but was unable to decide what. He felt punch drunk; paralysed. Percy came back to the tent opening and what meet by another child, the eldest, a boy of about eight, he helped him up and that was when Draco spotted Jenson, Jenson had spotted Percy. Before he knew what he was doing, Draco was running towards Percy and the boy, he jumped and pushed the former over. Her felt the swish of the deadly spell as it passed over missing Percy by a second. The boy still stood:  
  
"Run, go to your sisters, NOW!" Malfoy shouted angrily glaring at the boy then back at Percy who was staring at him opening and closing his mouth in shock.  
  
"Thanky-"  
  
"AVADA KEDAVRA," this time Percy had no one to save him, his mouth slackened but his eyes remained in the same staring state, still shocked, but dead. Draco looked up and gasped to see his father, standing there, anguish set upon his face.  
  
"Traitor." "No father, there were children, please," Draco was frightened by the wand pointing at him and the look on his father's face.  
  
"It will be easier for you this way, the Dark Lord will make you suffer for worse and far longer if I leave you be, at least this way you will not suffer," Lucius' voice was cold and stern, no feeling could be seen in his eyes.  
  
"I am your son, you can't kill me father, you wouldn't, do I come second? Please father."  
  
"Yes you do Draco. Ava-" Lucius Malfoy stopped suddenly in a similar fashion to Percy, his jaw slackened and his eyes remained open. He fell to the ground. Draco looked at him, looked at his wand ready to strike, ready to kill his only son; a single tear fell on his cheek. 


End file.
